Familiarity Breeds Fondness
by warchiefsteph
Summary: A tussle with thugs finds Lilith Hawke coming to Anders for healing...but perhaps a bit more? Cover image by mischiart on deviantart.


"Will you _ever_ learn to stop getting yourself beat up?"

" _No_."

Anders chuckled, shaking his head when Hawke spoke, amused by her response. The woman sat on the edge of one of the clinic cots, features lit by the warm glow of several candles on a bedside table. A smug grin lifted her features as her feet kicked back and forth; Anders busied himself with bandages and ointments-she _was_ cut up pretty badly, but she hardly thought there was use for any of that.

"What exactly _were_ you doing that got you in this state, Lilith?" he asked, turning weary eyes back on her, and Hawke only shrugged, her smug grin still in place. His brows only rose as he approached her; for once, they were both out of their armor, rather taking a more comfortable approach with a simple pair of breeches and a tunic. _His_ clothing. Hawke's outfit had been all but ruined in the skirmish she had just gotten out of, and while she beat the life out of the bandits who had decided to make her their prey, her simple robes had hardly held up against their daggers, and her skin less-so. Cuts lined her arms, her lip was split, and a single, bloody gash crossed her stomach, from the right hip to just under her ribcage on the opposite side. It hurt like hell, but Anders would have never known, had she not burst into clinic, proudly bearing her wounds.

"If you _really_ want to know," she finally answered when he approached again, first taking her arm into his hand and examining the wound, "I wasn't _purposely_ getting myself into trouble. I was going to pop in for a visit to show you a little something I found last week. But-" She paused, eye glinting proudly when his gaze flashed up to hers. "I ran right into a couple of bandits, they _tried_ to rob me, and here I am now." She winced when he prodded at the slice on her forearm, and though her hand twitched slightly, he held it firmly, the slightest of smiles curving his lips.

"I thought you were tougher than that, Lilith," he chuckled, his hand hovering inches from her skin, a greenish, _rejuvenating_ glow emanating from his palm, covering the afflicted area with his magic. Hawke was no healer-she'd not ever learned of healing ways, her preference steering toward elemental magics. As he worked, her skin burned-not as though if it were on fire, but rather an almost _itching_ sensation. She could not see beyond the green haze that enveloped her arm, but her skin tightened, prickled, and knitted together. It took only moments for the work to be completed, and when he finally drew away, her skin was flawed by only a scar, pinkish against her pale skin.

"I _am_ ," she protested, poking him in the chest in mock indignation. "Would you rather I go home and wait it out?"

"Of _course_ not," he answered quickly, sharply enough to take her off guard. "I prefer you come to me if you're hurt, Lilith. I can heal you better than other clinics might." He paused, his nose wrinkling in slight annoyance at the mere thought. He drew nearer again, taking her arm gingerly in his hand, running his fingers along the area of where the injury once was, coarse fingertips causing a slight chill to run down her arm. "I'm glad you _did_."

Bright, blue gaze fixed on his amber eyes for a moment, and her lips curved in a devilish smirk, before leaning forward on the cot, shoving her face in his. Hawke's nose nearly pressed against the tip of his own, and the smugness her features only caused a dull, rosy tint to warm his features.

"Is that so, Anders~?" she mused, a dark brow raising. Reaching up, she pinched his stubbly chin between her thumb and index finger, giving it a light squeeze, a soft chuckle rumbling in her throat. "Is that because you missed seeing my pretty face? Or that you get to have your hands on me, hm~?"

Though his features blushed a tad darker than before, he did not relent, and a wry grin curved his own features as he gave a nonchalant shrug. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he mused, backing away if only to brush his finger against her nose. "I've told you _before_ , have I not?"

"I _would_ ," she remarked, her face now impassive as the conversation took a more serious note. "And I've told _you_ , I _don't_ care."

Something flickered behind Anders' eyes; pain, perhaps? Longing? Maybe fear, but regardless, Hawke saw the full impact of it upon him, and her expression softened, a soft sigh escaping her.

" _I don't care..._ "

There was a silence between them, the air only broken by a weary sigh from Anders, as his gaze flickered to the ground, his brow pressed against Hawke's. It was in her nature to be charismatic, to crack a joke when tenses ran high, but now was not the moment, and gingerly, her hands rested on either side of his face, thumbs running along his scratchy cheeks. A hum seemed to pass from his lips, pleased by her touch, and a gentle smile curved her own as she nuzzled him softly. He relaxed under her hands, and Hawke thought she could feel his steadily creeping toward her thigh, all the while her legs extended, latching around his, drawing him nearer. He was so close, she could almost taste it, and for a mere second of time, she drew away, locking her eyes with his, her cheeks uncustomarily rosy.

" _Anders..._ "

As though a demon stood between them, pain shot through Hawke's side, and she found herself twitching away from him, arm suddenly clasping her stomach. She had all but forgotten about the gouge there, and though the bleeding had stopped not long after she had arrived, the pain was still there, and still _strong_.

Lifting the tunic she wore to just beneath her breasts, the gouged skin was inflamed, red and raw and screaming at Hawke in agony. Anders, clearly concerned ( though the disappointment in his eyes did not go unnoticed ), reached to her aid, shifting himself beside her, as though to steady her, should she need it.

"Lay back, Lilith," he murmured, gently guiding her to rest upon the mattress. He said no more, only pausing to brush her hair out of her eyes, before turning his attention back to the gouge on her stomach. Kneeling beside her, he ran his hands along the wound, muttering quietly to himself, eyes flickering back to Hawke whenever the slightest pained gasp slipped from her lips. She may have thought nothing of it in the moment, but as deep as it was, it would likely leave her incapacitated the moment the adrenaline wore off.

Taking no time to begin, both hands hovered over the injury, and again, a greenish glow enveloped his hands and her skin, covering the injury in a warm glow. Hawke shivered at the sensation, goosebumps arising on her arms. She would never quite get used to the healing sensation, and propping herself up gentle, her bright, blue eyes fixed on his handiwork, watching as the muscle knitted together, her skin slowly covering the wound. It did not heal completely, however; the spell which Anders had used was not one that would have finished the job. Hawke could see it in his eyes-he was weary, the circles under his eyes darker than they had been in weeks.

" _Anders_." Her hand shot out, latching around his wrist, and the light subsided, slowly fading away. He glanced at his work; her skin was still torn open, but the muscle beneath was healed. Good enough for her. "Don't strain yourself; I didn't come here to see you wear yourself out."

Though it didn't seem to bode well with him, he bowed his head, relenting under her touch. Hawke eased up herself, her eye twitching as her stomach stung, but otherwise was fine. Letting her tunic cover the wound again, she made space beside her, and Anders sank onto the mattress beside her, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Hawke scooted herself closer to him, resting her hand gently on his leg.

"Cheer up," she mused, leaning her weight against him, her head bowed as she rested against his shoulder. Though she did not see him, she could feel him shift, his head lifting as his hands clasped together before him. It was a start, and Hawke was happy enough that he'd listened, if only _somewhat_.

"You're too hard on yourself," she continued. "I almost feel guilty for the way I act sometimes; we're both apostates, and here I am, parading around without consequence when you're shoved up in here, fearing to lose what freedom you have left." She heard him grunt, as though chuckling softly, and her eyes flashed to his, her expression brightening when she saw a small grin on his lips.

"It's refreshing," he replied, straightening up, only to brush his finger over the tip of her nose. "You ignore fear in the face of adversary; I admire that." Almost instantly, he seemed to regret his words, for Hawke's smile turned devilish, and she shoved her face against his, her nose smooshing against the tip of his. Her features were smug, and there was a rosy tint to her cheeks, reserved for whenever Anders opened the way for her.

"You _admire_ me, Anders? My, my heart is _all_ a-flutter~" Despite her stomach twinging in protest, she did not move. His semi-flustered expression and red face were too nice to pass up.

"Lilith, _please_ ," he stammered, placing his hands on her shoulders, moving back slightly, though still remaining rather close. "That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble."

"Is that a promise?" she quipped, quirking a brow, the smallest hint of a growl coloring her voice. "I'm always down for another challenge, you know that."

The inflection of her voice had his blush growing darker, and he took a moment run his hand through his hair, a nervous laugh escaping him. "Maker's sake, Lilith, what are you trying to say?"

It took only a moment for her expression to grow serious, her eyes sparkling dangerously, once he finished speaking. Allowing the silence to hang in the air for a few moments, she positioned herself on her knees, leaning forward, placing her hands on his legs. Her nose hovered inches from his, before affectionately nuzzling the tip of his with her own, an alluring smile gracing her features. She had him just where she wanted him, and she could hear his breath catch in his chest, his hands reaching for her. One touched her right hand, the other finding her waist; she was so _close_ -her advances had not been subtle. For the better part of her stay in Kirkwall, she had expressed her interest, and though Anders clearly had difficulty containing his own feelings, his discomfort was not lost to her. Kiss him as she might like to, Hawke did not want to push herself onto him.

She drew away slowly, pausing only to plant a small, sweet kiss on the tip of his nose, her blushing features unusually calm. "You know what I'm trying to say, Anders. You just need to say it _first_."

After leaving another kiss on his brow, she rose from the bed, stretching her arms above her head-though immediately regretting it-and began to poke around the clinic, rubbing her chin as she placed a hand on her hip. It took a moment, but she gazed back at him, grinning crookedly at his bewildered expression.

"You're adorable," she laughed, quirking her brows. "I don't know about you, but I'm _starved_. Let's go back to my place, I'll have something hot cooking up in no time, and after what you've done, I know you could use it."

Even as he rose, Hawke noticed the disappointment in his eyes once again, the disappointment that he had pushed her away _once_ again. She approached him, reaching out her hand to place in his, letting her fingers entwine with his, before giving his hand a light squeeze.

"C'mon, grumpy butt. I'll make you something that'll wipe the frown right off your face."


End file.
